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Robin makes Steve stop for ice-cream on the way back to her place.
"Why?" He asks, suspicious.
"Does there have to be an occasion for ice cream?" She asks, feet up on the dash. "Maybe I'm scared shitless about everything going on and want to numb my brain with a delicious treat! Is that so hard to believe?"
"You always suggest ice cream when you want to do your psychoanalysis stuff on me." Steve says. "And I don't know if I think that now is really the time for more questions about my feelings and my sexuality and my childhood."
"That's where you're wrong, Steve, because now is precisely the right time for it. You can't face Vecna with shit in your head, that's how he gets you."
Steve gives a long, exaggerated sigh, pulling up in front of the local ice cream place. "Fine. But I'm not paying for yours."
Steve pays for hers. It's a strawberry-caramel-pistachio twist, an abomination compared to his perfectly normal and serviceable vanilla cone, but Robin seems to like it, paying no mind to the drip running down the side that's two seconds away from landing on the leather of his seats.
He hands her another napkin, settling into his seat. "So what's the verdict, doc?"
"I just wanted to talk to you about Eddie." She says, wiping at the now-dripped-on leather seat.
"What about him? How bad he's been, lately? How I'm the only one who seems to think it's a bad idea for him to go there with us?"
"Nope." Robin says, popping the 'p'. "That's group-discussion stuff. I want to talk about your...problems."
Steve flicks his eyes away. "What? What problems?"
"Maybe how much it's bothering him that you're not open about your relationship. I know that a lot of that might be coming from Vecna, but if he's exploiting it then it's a real insecurity, Steve. He told me that he's okay with giving you time to figure shit out, but that he's worried that you're embarrassed to be with him because he's...him."
"...What?"
Robin gives him a sad look. "Yeah, because of how you were in high school, and stuff. The King."
Steve gnaws at his lower lip, ice cream completely forgotten. "That's—I mean, I know he's been bothered about this stuff, there was this whole thing where I called him 'bro' in front of Nancy..."
"Oh, believe me, I heard all about that." Robin says, eyebrows high over her cone.
"...But it isn't because of who he is, not at all. I should've... God, I'm an idiot for not realizing that that's what he was getting at."
"Indeed you are." Robin agrees. "A royal one."
Steve doesn't disagree. He gives his ice cream a forlorn lick. "I'll talk to him tonight." He leans over, giving Robin a half-hug that sends more drops of ice cream onto the seats. "Love you."
She cringes, trying to push him off, but he knows she's only joking, and the she finally gives in, giggling into his shoulder at his sappiness. "You too."
